It’s been a while since I’ve been out collecting images for Random Roadside Friday.  I will confess to having been thoroughly beaten by the heat and although I did make the trip to Savannah a few weeks back, I’ve been mostly spending the summer in or near the community pool.

I have acquired more of a tan this summer than I have had since I was 19.  You don’t get tan in San Francisco.  It is against the law.  This is my third summer in Florida and I have also begun to acquire some other Florida habits, like acting as if severe thunderstorms are no reason to stay indoors and wearing flip-flops for all occasions.

A few days ago, Mr. B. and I went to Silver Springs, and on the way back I detoured off the road in search of a fish camp at the edge of Orange Lake.  I missed my target and ended up in Citra, where I snapped an old market and a peeling sign for a hitherto-unknown-to-me variety of orange.  Upon investigation, this orange turned out to be a formerly commonplace midseason variety.  I liked the idea, though, of an orange with a pineapple nuance.  Or a grapefruit with a tinge of pomegranate, or a lem-lime or a cantaguava.

The pictures below are an assortment of something I will elegantly call “stuff.”   They have no raison d’etre and belong in no category other than random. I carry a camera in my purse, in my hand, and sometimes jammed inelegantly into my underwear.  (Why, you ask? Why, because sometimes I like to have my hands free.)

Poolside sunset at my apartment complex.  The sunsets have been pretty spectacular this year.

Yes, that is a schlong.  Enlarge the pic for a close-up.

Another taken at my apartment complex.

Mr. B. arrives back in Gainesville from his trip to Virginia.

Another poolside.  I love swimming at this time of day.


This cherry old Ford was parked alongside a gas station-cum-boiled-peanut emporium outside Orange Lake.  (If this is not a Ford, guys, smack me upside.)

Remember when all markets used to look like this?  And bag boys had a big smile and enjoyed going outdoors in the foulest of weathers? Remember when “May I help you?” really meant that you would get pleasant, congenial service and not lip from a cashier angered because you showed up at the drive-through window during the cashier’s texting break?

Citra once had packing plants.  Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings sent her oranges here to be crated.  And then the frostline moved south.


I could have saved this for Halloween, but that would have been unfair. I spied this jolly display in the parking lot at Butler Plaza.  We love us some Gator fans!

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